


mimosas

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Beach Sex, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, cousyfest2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 22:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: Sex on the beach, basically.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the #cousyfest2k17, day 6 [VACATION]. Don't ask me how this happened. I just wanted to write another fic while the fest is still in the recent past or something. I have no idea what I'm doing, as usual.  
> (Also I sort of overheard the cocktail conversation on tumblr, idek.)

Daisy is lying next to him on a towel, almost completely covered by an unusually chic thin bathrobe because she doesn‘t want to get even more striped from her bikinis, reading Bulgakov (he’d once made a reference and she’d promptly bought the book for their vacation), distractedly chewing on a some twizzlers every now and then. Admittedly, he’s been feeling far too tipsy far too soon today (Daisy’s been insisting they drink mimosas, and he didn’t want to decline, because she looked so … accomplished making the suggestion), so his judgement might not be the most accurate right now, but there’s nothing better than this. Nothing better than seeing Daisy rubbing her feet together and digging her toes into the sand, than seeing her basically do _nothing_ , for once, visibly enjoying herself.

When the air starts cooling down, he sees Daisy mark the page with a ticket stub, then put the book inside her beach bag for protection. She removes her sunglasses as she’s standing up, the robe fluttering around her, and maybe it’s the fact that he’s been accepting free drinks in a far too regular rhythm, but when she looks at him, he’s pretty sure the world suddenly started spinning faster. She takes a few steps towards him, smiling, and he thinks she’s probably going to walk up to the trailer behind them to buy some ice cream or something, when he suddenly remembers that the trailer’s already closed at this hour and she’s actually coming to sit on his lap.   
He lets out a huge sigh (it’s almost a groan, actually), and it makes her smile wide, like he’s a bit of a dork, like she knows him better than he does himself (which, to be fair, is probably true). Like he can’t hide from her. Which is good.

"Wanna know where I got this robe from?," she says, and it sounds seductive because she wants it to sound seductive. She’s been trying to get more confident with this sort of thing, he’s noticed. It’s not that she’s ever been too shy to actually say _stuff_ , really, it’s the delivery. Daisy’s _sexy talk_ , as she’s been phrasing it, has started to sound more like she believes in her own charm only lately. Early on in their relationship (okay, it’s still, technically, _early on_ , but like _very_ early on), she’d been struggling with the delivery, letting on more than she’d meant to about how much these things posed a challenge for her. 

"Where did you get it from?," he manages, and barely so, because Daisy is basically hugging his waist with her legs now. He almost wants to check if there’s someone nearby, still, but he knows there isn’t, or Daisy wouldn’t be straddling him. (That’s what he’s hoping, at least.)   
"A gentleman on the beach," she says, and she’s basically smiling at her own smoothness right now. It’s a joy to see her being confident about this sort of sexy banter, really, but honestly, this is doing more to him than it probably should. Again, it’s probably the mimosas, he’s lost count. And he can’t help focusing on Daisy’s hips right now, pushing against him again and again.

"And is he - _oh_ \- is he someone you like? This … gentleman?" Not smooth. Absolutely not. But the situation is clearly becoming too challenging for him to remain elegant.  
"Oh _yes_ ," she smiles, and she keeps pushing, and he keeps getting harder and harder, and it’s unfair. It’s unfair because he’s able to muster more restraint, normally. When he isn’t drunk and when Daisy isn’t wearing this robe and when they’re not alone on a beach, and when Daisy isn’t this tan and smiling at him like he’s all she ever wanted. It’s getting almost painful, and he’s pretty grateful he’s wearing swim shorts, okay, at least there’s some freedom to be had.

"But the question is -," Daisy’s voice keeps getting lower, and her hips keep doing this thing where ... where ... "- does the gentleman like me?" She’s obviously enjoying this, and he feels both very proud of her and very turned on. He definitely hasn’t had this much of a hard-on in ages. (Months, probably.) (Weeks, rather.) (Honestly? A few days, with Daisy.)  
"He - oh fuck - he _adores_ you." He’s being ridiculous. He knows that.  
"You’re drunk, Phil." But she’s smiling. She looks so happy. Like he’s cute. God, he hopes he’s cute right now. He nods, giving her a shy smirk before pushing up against her, because he can’t take it anymore, because this needs to lead somewhere fast, or else he’s going to come right now.

Her hand snakes down between them, feeling him up, and he’s about to make a noise but forgets about it almost right away, because Daisy is taking off her robe, because she’s opening her bikini top and her skin looks like it’s glowing and because she’s pushing her panties aside, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like having sex with him on a beach after he’s had more than just one too many mimosas is the best thing she could be doing right now.

She gives him a final, very meaningful look before she leads him inside of her, like she’s checking if this is okay, if she’s allowed to make love to him right now. As if he’d ever not feel safe with her. As if he’d ever feel not loved by her. It’s absurd. It’s very absurd and _God_ , he can’t even find words. Things are getting so intense he wishes he had superhuman strength or stamina or whatever, because this feels like he will be able to die happy afterwards (that’s what he always feels like, but that doesn’t mean things have ever gotten less intense between them).

She moves exactly _in the right way_ , it’s ridiculous, it’s glorious, he can’t. He can.   
"Holy _fuck_ ," he says, and groaning is more like it, and it makes her smile, no, okay, it almost makes her smile, because Daisy’s face is something else right now, like all the light on the world is on her cheek right now, and she’s sighing and sighing and moaning and he can’t.  
He knows it’s a special occasion because Daisy uses her powers _right there_ and he’s shivering and panting. They’re both panting. And if he felt drunk before, he certainly feels wasted right now, dizzy from this, dizzy from _her_ and the way she knows their bodies by heart.

He must be looking sort of _destroyed_ , like he has just surrendered to someone, and that’s not wrong, but Daisy must think he’s adorable or something, because she says, "She adores you too," before she ruffles his tousled hair and before she kisses him like it’s the last time, again. She always does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!  
> (I'm so awkward writing teh sex, I can't with myself. Sorry.)


End file.
